Worn Out
by csi101
Summary: Nick is worn out and has to face the music...eventually. Set after For Warrick. This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Feedback would be great.
1. Worn Out

Worn Out

It had been a hell of a month. Nick Stokes felt worn out. He was sitting in the changing room at work getting his head together after another busy shift, waiting for his energy levels to increase enough to get him to his car. He was exhausted and he was hurting with grief at the loss of his best friend, Warrick Brown. It had been almost 5 weeks since that hellish night when McKeen had murdered Warrick. The lab was still shell shocked. Grissom was walking around as if in a dream - not interested in anything work related. Sara had come back briefly and disappeared just as abruptly. Catherine was trying to keep it all together. Greg was openly heading to therapy. Nick wished he could do them all - wished he could switch off from work, disappear, keep it together without heading back to therapy. After he's abduction he had gone to therapy for 3 months. It had been mandatory to get back in the field. He had to admit that it had helped at the time and the therapist, Clarence Dawson, had been very easy to talk to once they had had a few sessions. Clarence was a middle-aged African American lady who had the ability to make you feel normal when everything else in life seemed so abnormal. Still, after 3 months he was back on his feet with enough techniques and strategies to get back his life and had bade Clarence goodbye, despite some resistence with the psychologist concerned he may not have been completely ready. Of course, after his abduction he had also had Warrick by his side. He had come around, often just to sit and have a beer or watch a football match, and had never judged him through the tears or his mothers temporary overprotectiveness - the hugs when he would get the shakes and the stroking of his hair in passing. Once he had finally been released from hospital his mother and father had both kept close by. His mother had stayed for nearly a month heading home for longer and longer periods until Nick was finally living alone again. He missed his mothers hugs now. The shakes had come back with avengence after Warricks death when he had held McKeen at gunpoint and would have killed that sonofabitch if his brain hadn't kicked in at the last minute. During Warricks funeral service his hands had begun to shake so much that, despite his attempts to hide it, Catherine had noticed and had held his clasped hands tightly in hers, tears flowing freely for both of them.

Nick stared at what had been Warricks locker. He had tried to keep himself distanced from Warricks death at work. He watched as Grissom became even more socially constipated and had made the unconscious decision to plough ahead with work instead of following his boss' lead. He found it easier not to think about things when he was in the middle of a case and, when he would finally make it home in the morning, he found alcohol a fast and effective way to dull the senses and allow for a painfree sleep sans recurrent nightmares which had plagued him ever since the abduction - mainly when he was physically and mentally exhausted. Usually, at least twice a week he would wake in the evening to find he had simply passed out on the couch, the TV still on and empty bottles across the lounge room table. Listerine and gum had become his new best friend. He knew this wasn't a really healthy way of dealing with issues but figured when the hurting eased in the future he could deal with it then. And its not like it effected his work - everyone in the department was so busy dealing with their own demons that noone would notice the endless lists which he made so he wouldn't stuff up and forget important tasks. This was a little trick that he had picked up a couple of weeks after Warricks death after a particularly hard night on the juice when he had forgotten to label evidence - a mistake not even a rookie would make. It had shaken him to think that he could make such an elementary error and had laid off the booze for a couple of days until he found the pain of grief much more unbearable than the pain of guilt. Then there was the pain of failure. He watched Grissom slowly self destructing at the loss of Warrick. He had listened to Grissom's eulogy detailing the deep love he had felt for him - as a father would love his treasured son. Nick felt the familiar punch of guilt as he wondered quietly if his death would have evoked such emotion from Grissom. For 11 years, Nick had worked hard to impress his boss. Being the youngest child of a Supreme Court Judge and an acclaimed District Attourney, Nick had always had a lot of pressure to achieve. Having 6 older overachieving siblings compounded that expectation infinitely. No matter how good his grades, how grand his achievements, there was always someone in the immediate family who had achieved it first. Escaping Texas and making a new life in Vegas, Nick had hoped he would be able to shine on his own merits. When he had been accepted into Las Vegas Crime lab under Gil Grissoms tutorage, he had been delighted. He would learn from the master and would, one day he hoped, hold the respect and admiration of the one man he now so desperately wanted to impress. He wanted to prove he was more than just some rich judges son who had breezed through life on contacts rather than ability. He had never been that person. He had always had to fight. Moreso than most in the department, truth be told. His father had always stressed that his kids would make it on their own and not rely on their surname. Nick had always felt that he never quite lived up to his fathers expectations - particularly giving up on the family's history of studying law to study instead his new found passion of chemistry and forensics. He had hoped that by getting the respect and admiration of the best CSI in the country, Gil Grissom, that his father would see that Nick was top of his game, like his brother and sisters. Unfortunately for Nick, he had started at the Vegas lab only a couple of months after Warrick and Grissom already had his new project - his 'golden haired' boy. Nick had, instead, become 'Nicky my boy' for a couple of years - the baby of the family again. After his disasterous relationship with Kristy, Nick felt that he had lost any of the respect which Grissom had had for him and instead of being 'the baby' had become 'the bastard stepchild'. What ever he did was being judged. Whatever he said was of little importance. He got under Grissoms feet. He was an irritation instead of a valued team member. So, it was little wonder that Nick found himself wondering if Grissom would have been this bereft had they not rescued Nick in time after his abduction. If it had been Nick in that casket, would Grissom have been standing at the front of the church telling the world how much he had loved Nick. How proud he was of him. How much he'll miss him. Probably not. Guilt and Failure.

Standing up, Nicks vision clouded with unshed tears and his fist slammed into the locker with enough force to make the whole rack of lockers rock back and forward. Catherine, who had been about to enter the locker room just before the locker slam, stood in the doorway, watching as Nick clutched his fist and swore. he lay his head against the cool metal and waited for the throbbing to ease, cursing himself quietly for his impromptu decision to break his hand. He jumped noticeably when he felt Catherine's hand on his back. 'You OK?' she asked quietly - concern clearly evident in her tone. He nodded slightly - soothed by the cool metal of the locker against his forehead and Catherine rubbing his back gently in circles. He stood straight finally and drew a hand across his eyes before turning to give Cathering a forced, slight smile. 'Just tired.' he admitted 'Goin' home'. She smiled back at him - a mothers concerned smile - and pulled him into a quick hug. 'You know I'm always here if you need to talk' she said softly. He nodded against her shoulder before pulling back and collecting his jacket from the bench. 'Yeah, I know. Thanks Cath but I'm OK' he said, 'You heading home yet?' he asked. Catherine gave a short laugh - 'Home? The way my night has been? I think I'll be lucky to get home by Sunday!'. Nick smiled at her as he left the room. 'Take it easy!' he called back at her. 'You too, Nicky' she said quietly, still concerned for him.


	2. Storming Out

OK I know this should have been on the first chapter but this is my first attempt at fanfiction and I'm still learning the ropes of uploading stories to this site. Anyway - as I said, this is my first story and feedback would be more than welcome. Also, I'll add the usual disclaimer - neither the concept or characters of CSI belong to me. Unfortunately.

Bad Decision - Chapter 2

Nick didn't make it out of the building before he was accosted by David Hodges who had followed him down the hallway questioning him about the amount of evidence submitted from Nick during the night and the relevence of some of it. Hodges had been in one of his highly annoying pedantic moods for the last couple of night and it grated Nicks already frayed nerves. He didn't really listen as Hodges went on about the amount of work he had to do and that one sample of the metallic transfer found at the scene would have been enough instead of the three submitted by Nick. Nick agreed silently that 3 samples of the same material had been overkill, but he just didn't care. He walked off half way through Hodges' rant with a hand in the air signalling that the conversation was over. All he wanted to do was to get the hell out of the lab.

He hadn't lied to Catherine when he said he was tired, but he had no intentions of going straight home. He needed to clear his head and settle down a bit before he headed home. He was nearly out of the labs corridor when he heard Grissom call out his name. The thoughts which had consumed him in the locker room hadn't quite disappeared and the pent up hostility he held towards Grissom remained, although he didn't really know why. It was clear there was an issue in the way Nick turned slowly and fixed a tired and impatient glance at his boss. Grissom, too, had noticed and raised his eyebrow up in question - not knowing what he had done to suddenly made the younger man take umbridge with him.

'Have you got a minute?' Grissom asked. Nick shrugged and dragged himself back up the corridor to where his boss was standing. 'You look tired', Grissom stated giving the younger man an appraising look 'Have you been sleeping OK?'. Nick gave a short humourless snort of laughter and raised an eyebrow back at his boss -'Have you?' he asked back. The accusatory tone suddenly snapped Nick's natural good manners back into gear and he lowered his eyes as he apologised softly. Grissom watched him for a moment and shrugged, 'Fair call' he answered. 'Nick, I know its been more than a tough few weeks but..' his statement was left incomplete as Nick suddenly held up both hands - one clearly bruised and swollen from its earlier encounter with the locker - and said 'Grissom, thanks for your concern, but like I said to Catherine, I'm OK. I'm just tired and I'm really just needing to go home and get some sleep'. Grissom nodded again and continued to watch Nick - eyes flicking between the injured hand and Nicks face. He reached out to take a closer look at Nicks injured hand but Nick pulled it back quickly - suddenly embarressed by his lack of control. 'What happened to your hand?' asked Grissom. Nick gave a small grimace and murmured 'Just had a little problem with a door, its fine' and turned to leave. Once out of the office, Nick got out of the building as quickly as possible before Grissom could catch up with him to continue the discussion. In his current state of mind, the last thing he wanted to do was to have a belated deep and meaningful conversation with Grissom. No doubt Catherine had been in Grissoms ear and made him ask if he was alright, Nick thought bitterly - God knows he wouldn't think that anyone else would be suffering as much as him. Nick knew that these feelings against Grissom were irrational, but he was so tired of everything at the moment that he just didn't care.

Finally, he reached the carpark and climbed into the cabin of his vehicle. He would just stop off at his local bar and have a quick drink before going home, he thought. He drove quickly out of the carpark and out into the bright morning sunlight taking the corner just a little too quickly and sideswiping a newstand in the process. The scraping of metal on metal was almost painful and slamming his hands into the steering wheel, he pulled over to survery the damage. An ugly grey mark ran along the side of his SUV where the paint had been scratched back to the duco. Cursing heavily he kicked the tyre with a little too much force and had to contend with a sore foot now as well as a sore hand. He got back into the vehicle and peeled back onto the road. Now he really needed a drink!

Thanks for the great feedback guys - I'm trying to fix the long paragraph problems. Please keep the feedback coming.


	3. Flipped Out

Thanks for the feedback - I'm getting quite addicted to this! This chapter is a bit of a mishmash of a couple of chapters I had from another story but I thought it fitted OK with where I'm heading with this story. I hope you enjoy it.

Nick pulled up outside 'The Hairy Goat' pub, a little local he had been to several times in the past. He took a seat at the bar, sat head down and ordered up big. He needed to stop his brain. Memories were flooding in thick and fast and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed, he was going to take the upper hand - drink enough to dull them...keep them at bay.

Several orders later, the effect was obvious. Nick, normally quiet and laidback, was becomming more and more vocal, his accent becomming thicker and thicker with each round.

Finally, the bartender refused to serve him any more drinks, Nick's offense was obvious as he hurled the empty glass across the bar watching it shatter. Then everything went to hell. The bartender gave Nick a warning, Nick mouthed off again, security was called and Nicks fists started flying for the second time that day. This time it ended.

An enormous security bouncer had Nick lying on the floor with both arms pinned behind his back, blood oozing from his lip where his tooth had pierced it, and a bruise already appearing around his left eye from being subdued. He was still bucking underneath the guard and shouting muffled abuse when Jim Brass entered.

Unfortunately for Nick, in his haste to leave the lab, he had forgotten to remove his ID. The bartender, noticing the LVPD badge, had contacted the lab before the fracas commenced, hoping one of his colleagues could deal with Nick before he got to this stage. Fortunately for Nick, the call had been forwarded to Jim and not Ecklie.

Jim knealt down next to where Nick was pinned and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He had always liked the kid. Hell, Nicky Stokes was almost like the son he'd never had. Nick's head turned slightly to see Jim's face - concern etched clearly across it. The small, gentle smile he received made Nick's eyes well with tears. He was sick of it - sick of feeling like crap all the time - sick of the fact it was taking so long to get his life back. But, at least the struggling stopped and he became still, turning his head away from Jim again, not able to look him in the eye.

Jim patted the bouncer on the back and said quietly "OK,OK, he's good. Sorry about that, I'll deal with him now". The bouncer glanced at Brass and, almost reluctantly, got up, releasing the strong hold he'd maintained on Nick.

Nick lay still a moment longer then started to drag himself into a sitting position. "You OK?" Brass asked, knealing in front of the troubled young man. Nick massaged his shoulders but he nodded shortly, still not able to meet Jims gaze. Jim placed a gentle hand around the back of Nick's neck and muttered "You're OK. Come on, kid, lets get you outta here".

Nick stumbled to his feet, staggering as the effects of the alcohol made its presence known once more. Jim grabbed the back of his jeans, steadying him with a hand on his belt, the other hand guiding him by the arm out of the bar and into the front seat of his truck. Nick collapsed, exhausted and drunk, in the passenger seat. Jim quickly called Grissom. "I've got him......yeah, not good.....we're at 'The Hairy Goat' on 49th, I'll bring him in. (A slight chuckle before..) Gil, the kids pretty messed up - he'll need to dry out a bit before you start in on him....I know, I know, but tread carefully. We'll be there soon".

He got into the drivers seat and cast a glance at Nick, he was leaning heavily on the passenger side door with his head resting against the window, his eye seemingly getting darker by the minute. He looked exhausted, but, more troubling, he looked defeated. A voice painfully quiet and so thick with Texan drawl that Jim almost needed a translator asked "We're we goin'?".

Jim answered just as quietly, "To face the music, kiddo" before driving off back to the lab.

Please send in more reviews - I'm loving hearing what you guys think.


	4. Burnt Out

I'm addicted to the feedback - more please! Thank you so much to all of you who have given feedback so far. Its been great to hear what you think of the story.

Burnt Out - Chapter 4

Nick's day was rapidly deteriorating. Brass pulled up in the carpark, wincing slightly to find both Grissom and Catherine standing in the yard waiting for them - Grissom, arms folded looked grave but the concern was clear as soon as Jim opened the passenger side door and helped Nick out.

As soon as he was clear of the door, Nick pulled free and, eyes still downcast offered a mumbled thanks to Jim before shuffling across the yard towards his two colleagues.

Grissom eyed him, taking in his obvious injuries. "My office", he said before turning on his heels and heading inside.

Catherine watched as Nick, head still down, walked stiffly past. Gently placing a hand on his back she walked to Grissoms office with him, gently squeezing his arm before leaving him to enter by himself.

"Shut the door, Nick". The demand was calm but it was clear that Grissom was pissed off. Nick shut the door.

Grissom appraised his young CSI from behind his desk, gesturing for Nick to take the seat in front of him. Reluctantly he sat but continued to hang his head, seemingly engrossed in his feet.

"What's going on with you, Nicky? What were you thinking?" Grissom asked calmly. Nick shrugged and mumbled something incomprehensible.

Grissom pulled off his glasses and threw them forceably onto the desk in frustration fortunately not breaking them. Since Warricks death he found it harder to control his emotions - the first time in his life. "Nick, look at me when I'm talking to you! Dammit, what the hell were you thinking?!". Nick flinched but still wouldn't, or rather couldn't look up.

"Do you want to talk about this?". Still, his head hung low.

Grissom stood up and went around the desk to stand directly in front of Nick. He bent slightly and with his right hand, forcibly brought Nicks head up - no chance of avoiding eye contact now.

It was too much. Nicks eyes welled with tears so rapidly it was startling.

Just as rapidly the tears fell, his nose ran and the inner torture which had plagued him for so long was unleashed with a whimpering sob. Just as suddenly, Nick swiped away Grissooms hand, rose from the chair and headed for the door blindly as the tears continued to pour down his face. Grissom was too quick and grabbed him by the shoulder before he could exit. Nick swung around and pushed Grissom away with a fierce shove from both hands sending him reeling backwards.

Nick fumbled with the door trying to open it but failing - Grissom had flicked the door lock before Nick had entered the room, not really intending to detain him but more to keep anyone from disturbing them. Nick kicked out at the door and smacked his fist into the wood with a sickening crunch. His tears were becomming more frantic. His fist drew back to strike the door again before being pinned to his side as Grissom pinned both his arms to his side in an effort to stop him from further harming himself. Grissom felt Nick slump slightly, finally giving in to his restraint.

Grissom let him free and watched as Nick sunk to the floor - tucked in with his back to the wall and his left side resting against one of Grissoms bookshelves - knees drawn up to brace his elbows - hands resting on his forehead. His head lay against the wall as he gave in to his distress and sobbed.

Finally the wall was tumbling down.

Grissom watched for a moment more before lowering himself to the floor to sit next to Nick. He was tired too. He rubbed his fingers into his eyes and sighed deeply as he gently put a comforting arm around Nicks shoulders and sat with him for the eternity it took for the crying to stop. In that one moment, it finally dawned on Grissom that he wasn't the only one in the team struggling with his grief - he had lost his 'son' but Nick had lost his 'brother' and he was hurting...badly.


	5. Helped Out

Hi guys - Sorry for the delay in posting this next chapter. Thanks for all the great feedback. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I was trying to bring to life what I thought should have happened with Nick. It seemed to me that he was went through hell when he was abducted and it didn't seem to have any lasting effects at all. Even if he buried it deep, there would still have to be a breaking point and maybe Warricks deathcould be the trigger. I hope to reflect this in future stories as well. Hope you continue to enjoy it.

Helped Out - Chapter 5

Grissom watched as Nick quietened. His head still rested on the bookshelf and he seemed completely worn out - bone weary - and did not seem to even care that he was not alone. His eyes closed and it seemed that he either slipped into a much needed sleep or that he simply passed out from the intoxication.

Grissom hauled himself up from his position on the floor and looked back at Nick - he hadn't moved. Grissoms back twinged as he stretched slightly - dammit, he was getting too old for this. Awkwardly he made his way to the door, unlocked it and headed to the break room. Catherine was waiting for him, worry evident on her face. Grissom rubbed a weary hand over his face and sat heavily on the sofa.

Catherine made a fresh mug of coffee and sat next to him, handing over the coffee wordlessly. Grissom accepted it with a small smile and a 'Thank you' before beginning. "He needs help" he said simply. Catherine waited for him to continue, and when nothing further was offered, raised her hands in exasperation.

"Well? That's it?! What sort of help, Gil?" she asked impatiently, "Help with his laundry? Help with his love life? Psychiatric help? What?!!" Grissom rubbed at his eyes again before starting again. "He needs his friends." He said simply.

He told Catherine quietly what had happened in the office. When he had finished, Catherine met his eyes. "Should we get the counselling service involved?" she asked. Grissom shook his head saying "I think that has to be his call. I think at the moment we just wait until he sobers up and talk to him".

He glanced at Catherine in a way which clearly asked if she could be the one to do the talking. Catherine wasn't letting him get out of his responsibilities so easily however. "I dont mind being there as WE talk to him" she said, 'but, Gil, you need to be talking to him as well." Grissom hung his head and murmered "Catherine, I'm not good with this sort of thing", Catherine cut him off briskly though replying "You're his boss. You're his mentor. You're his friend. He needs to hear that things are going to be OK and that YOU will be there for him."

Grissom leant forward to rest his face in his hands and said so softly that Catherine almost didn't hear it "I dont think I'm strong enough to deal with this." Catherine looked at him and was struck by how much the effects of Warricks death had aged him. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said "You are. Its been so hard for all of us Gil, but at the moment, we have to focus on Nick and get him back on his feet. Its an important part of being a team. Its a vital part of being a family."

Grissom and Catherine walked back into the office with another mug of coffee - this one very strong. Nick was still out. Grissom closed the office door again - but did not lock it this time.

Catherine knealt in front of Nick and shook his shoulder to wake him, placing a hand against his temple as his eyes opened with a groan. Catherine gave him a concerned smile as his hand came up to cover his eyes - the after effects of the alcohol hitting him now.

Catherine turned and took the mug of coffee from Grissom and offered it to Nick while talking softly - "Its alright. Can I get you to drink some coffee? How about we sitting somewhere a bit more comfortable?".

She took him under the armpit and helped him to his feet as Grissom came in to steady him. Nick looked dreadful. His eye was already darkening up to a brilliant shade of purpley black and his right hand was badly swollen and bruised with dry blood crusting over his knucles. His face was pale and a very fine sheen of sweat broke through as he stood upright.

"Don' feel so good" he managed in his thick Texan drawl as he swayed on the spot. Grissom helped to manouver him around to sit heavily in the office chair. Still holding his head, Nick leant forward to counter the nausea. Grissom hastily cleared the paperwork and computer from his desk in case the nausea battle was lost. "He needs to be home in bed" Catherine stated matter-of-factly.

Grissom nodded slightly. "I can take him home", he said "I was just finishing up this morning anyway." Catherine became all business like and nodded too, "I can leave in about half an hour - just let me finish off with trace and then there's nothing that cant wait until tonight. I'll meet you at his place." She nodded in Nick's direction - he was still jack-knifed in the chair bracing his elbows on his knees and with his head buried in his hand - "Will you be OK with him until I get there?". Grissom looked unconvinced but shot her a smile/grimace and answered "We'll be fine, Cath."

Putting his words into action he gave Nicks shoulder a quick squeeze and said "Come on Nick, lets get you home."

More coming as soon as I can find the time. Happy New Year!!


	6. Drying Out

Sorry for the long delay in posting this - Man, I LOVE holidays!!! Please let me know what you think of this story.

***CAUTION**** Contains some mild coarse language - if easily offended, please look away!

Drying Out - Chapter 6

Catherine pulled into the driveway of Nicks townhouse nearly an hour later and parked behind Nicks black SUV. She was just about to knock on the door when it opened - Grissom standing there to greet her, obvious that he had been watching the driveway, waiting for her to arrive.

The inside of the house was dark and Catherine made out Nick's prone figure on the sofa sound asleep under a couple of blankets. She shot Grissom a sideways quizzical glance - he shrugged at her and gave a small wry smile but didn't comment. "Coffee?" he asked instead and they headed towards the kitchen.

Catherine paused as they passed the sofa and crouched down beside Nick - placing a hand to his face she stroked her thumb along his forehead and ruffled his short hair gently. Pulling the blankets up further and tucking them around his shoulders maternally before she walked back to Grissom, her forehead wrinkling in concern.

"How is he?" she asked. Grissom shrugged a little and glanced back at the sofa.

"We had an unscheduled stop on the way here, but otherwise he's mostly slept" he said, "He's exhausted, Cath. Absolutely, mentally and physically exhausted."

Catherine went to the refridgerator and opened it - inspecting the lack of food inside. She closed the door again heavily, shaking her head. "For Gods sake," she muttered, "cold pizza and beer."

She took the cup of coffee which Grissom offered her and sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. "So," she said, "What are we going to do with him?"

It was nearly two in the afternoon when Nick woke. His head felt like it was about to split in two and his right hand was throbbing painfully. Looking down he saw it was badly bruised and cut in several places. He groaned as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

He looked around the room confused, he had no memory of getting home let along being tucked up safetly on the sofa!

He thought back to the last thing he could remember - he went for a drink on his way home, he remembered vaguely fists and pain then....oh....crap. Tears. He remembered tears and - right at the back of his memory - he remembered...Grissom.

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned again - this time a mixture of hand and head pain but mainly in mortification.

Then a voice out of nowhere.

His head came up a little too quickly, his vision swam a little.

There it was again - it said his name - "Nicky?".

He got to his feet - man, he must be trippin'.

He turned in a slow circle, looking for the source of the voice - it had been female.

Christ..how drunk had he got?! What had happened after the tears?!

Turning full circle, Nick nearly lost his balance in startled fright as he saw Catherine and Grissom both standing at the entrance to his kitchen watching him turn in circles. Grissom with an eyebrow raised and Catherine with a small smile tugging at her lips.

Catherine covered the distance between him with several long strides and came to stand in front of him. A hand went back to his forehead as she asked "How you feeling?" He felt confused. What the hell were they doing in his home?

Instead he sat back on the sofa and dropped his aching head back in his hands - "Feel like shit."

Catherine sat next to him and put an arm protectively around his shoulders rubbing them in comfort. She glanced over at Grissom who was still standing watching them. "Gil! Coffee. Strong coffee" she barked. Grissom snapped into action and headed back to the coffee maker.

"Do you have any Advil, Nicky" she asked. He nodded slightly and mumbled into his hands "Kitchen - top of mic'wave".

"Gil!" Catherine called out again "Bring the Advil on top of the microwave as well." She continued to mother him with quiet words and the rubbing of his shoulders until Grissom arrived with coffee, Advil and a packet of frozen corn wrapped in a tea towel. Clutching the coffee in one hand, Nick swallowed 2 tablets and lay his head back on the sofa while Catherine lay the improvised cold pack over his throbbing knuckles.

He lay there silently for several minutes, trying hard to remember what in the hell had happened to bring both Catherine and Grissom to his house. Why couldn't he remember?! What, in Gods name, had he done?!

He remembered vaguely puching a door. That at least explained the hand. He remembered crying, but couldn't for the life of him remember what he had been crying about! It must have been Warrick, Nick thought dumbly. He couldn't talk about Warrick. Had they made him talk about him? Had they made him think about him? He didn't want to think about him!! But it was too late. Memories were flooding in again. He missed his friend so much.

He slumped forward and grabbed at his head again, the pain increasing as his tension increased. He felt Catherines hand gently rest her hand on his back again and more gaddamn tears filling his eyes. Shit!! He swiped the back of his good hand angrily across his eyes - wiping the dampness on his jeans. He felt like a friggin' idiot

Humiliation flushed across his cheeks as more tears came and he felt Catherines arms coming back around him, holding him wordlessly.  
He jammed his thumb and forefinger into his eye sockets and squeezed, trying desperately to regain control.

He heard Catherine's voice saying softly "We know it hurts, Nicky. We miss him too." More damn tears, pushing past his fingers and running down his cheeks. "Please, Nicky," she said,her own voice choking with emotion, "Please, talk to us."

Another chapter to follow as soon as I can. Hope you're still enjoying it.


	7. Cried Out

Chapter 7 - Cried Out

Just to recap....He heard Catherine's voice saying softly "We know it hurts, Nicky. We miss him too." More damn tears, pushing past his fingers and running down his cheeks. "Please, Nicky," she said,her own voice choking with emotion, "Please, talk to us."

Nick felt his control slipping again and dug his fingers into his eye sockets harder. He felt his nose beginning to run as the tears continued to come. Why were they doing this to him? Why were they making him think about Warrick? He had it under control. He'd been doing OK.

He felt Catherines arm hug his shoulders tightly and felt her other hand come up to his face and pull him down to her shoulder. His body felt as if it was on autopilot - no longer listening to his brain which was screaming at him to stop crying in front of his coworkers - as he felt the grief win out. He sobbed against her and felt Catherines hand move up to cradle the back of his head and heard her soft words of comfort as he cried himself out.

He finally started regaining his composure and lay his head against her shoulder a moment longer before pulling away, embarressment flushing across his face as he mumbled "I'm sorry, Catherine" and pushed himself up off the sofa.

He headed towards his bedroom, hoping desperately that Grissom and Catherine would take the hint and leave - leave his house and leave him alone.

Instead,out of the blue, he heard Grissom call out to him.

"Nick."

He stopped, more in surprise than anything else but did not turn around.

Then he heard it again. This time different. Almost pleading.

"Nick....please."

He paused a moment longer before turning slowly around to look at his boss.

Grissom looked like Nick felt. Defeated.

Grissom looked deep into Nicks eyes and realised dully that he had rarely looked into his eyes before. And certainly not since he had had to restrain him in that God awful box. For the first time he saw the man that Nick had become. He wasn't the kid he once saw, when he had arrived at the lab from Dallas, a green, raw talent full of enthusiasm and without the jaded disillusionment which so often developed with time living and working in Vegas.

It was there now though and it struck Grissom like a knife in the chest.

Nick Stokes had become him.

Nick Stokes, who had once been so open to showing his emotions, had become as emotionally withdrawn as Grissom.

The man who once had famously cried when the Dallas Cowboys had been knocked out of the race for the Superbowl in the dying minutes of the match, was mortified at having cried in front of two friends at the loss of his best friend.

Since his kidnapping - during that terrible, terrible time that he had been buried alive - he had been trying to rebuild his life. He had laid down the foundations, had gone through the prescribed course of counselling, had got back to work, had acted like everything was back to normal. He was trying so hard to protect himself - succeeding in shutting everone else out - that it seemed he had forgotten how to have feelings. During that initial healing phase post abduction, emotions had equalled pain. Emotions had equalled humiliation. He had learned how to stop them. He had had to.

Now, he had forgotten how to get them back. He had forgotten how to cry. He had forgotten how to grieve. And now he was paying the price.

Grissom blamed Walter Gordon.

He blamed this gaddamn city.

Most of all, he blamed himself.

The foundations of Nicks rebuilt life were shaking badly. Warrick had been the cornerstone. The support that Nick so desperately needed and, with him gone, well there was nothing to stop the fall.


	8. Starting Out

Thanks for the great feedback guys. I really appreciate hearing your comments and I try to take heed of all advice. As I mentioned in one of my first chapters, this is the first story I've actually let other people read so its been great to hear that you're enjoying it. The advice has also been really great and I've found it really helpful as I'm not very confident with what I'm doing just yet.

Thanks again.

Chapter 8 - Starting Out

Gil Grissom gazed into Nicks eyes trying to read him. Both men maintained the contact, both trying to read the other mans thoughts.

Finally it was Nick who turned away. He didn't know what was wrong with him. For all those years he had craved his bosses attention and suddenly he'd had it - his bosses complete and undivided attention - and yet he found that he no longer wanted it. He wanted to be left alone.

Again the voice.

"Nick, please dont do this. Dont turn away from us again."

And there it was, the hook that dragged him in each time. He stopped but did not turn around this time.

He felt his resolve starting to disintegrate yet again

He heard soft movement behind him and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. More softly spoken words, breaking with emotion. "Nick, I know you're hurting. I know you're angry. And I know platitudes mean very little when you're being consumed by grief. So just know that we're beside you and we want to help you through this. We loved him and miss him too. We're all hurting from Warrircks death."

And then he felt it.

A soul deep pain which kicked him hard in the chest. It was raw and unrelenting and caught his breath in his throat.

And he felt more tears pushing through an unseen barrier deep within him and filling his eyes.

And he felt his bosses arms turn him around and engulf him in a strong and meaningful embrace.

"I miss him so much, Gris." he sobbed softly.

He felt the arms tighten around him.

And he let himself cry.

Looking back, Grissom realised this had been a turning point for them both.

For Nick, the confrontation had unlocked three years of pain and anger. The strong wall which he had carefully built around his emotions had finally been demolished.

He had sat with Catherine and Grissom for several long hours afterwards, talking and crying together until there was nothing left to share. He unburdened himself with his despair. With his anger. With his pain. And finally with his hopes.

Catherine and Gil had spoken about their own journey through the fog of the last month.

Grissom talked about his feelings. He could not remember sharing such personal information with anyone except for Sara...and, to some extent, LadyHeather.

He came away feeling lighter and more focused than he had for weeks.

They had promised to continue the healing together and to support each other through the remaining dark days ahead. To be each others cornerstones as they lay new foundations for a life after Warrick.

As Gil drove home to get some very much needed sleep, he drove through Vegas looking at it with fresh eyes.

He had friends here. He had his life here. He was happy enough here.

And yet, he thought dully, something was missing.

Maybe it was time to look outside of his predictable world - to challenge himself again without the burden of being a boss and a mentor.

If he was building a new life - maybe it was time to look at building it outside of Vegas.

Maybe it was his time to say goodbye to Las Vegas.

At least for the time being.

The End

I hope you enjoyed this. I've really enjoyed writing it and sharing it with other CSI devotees. I plan to write more stories soon and will always be up for ideas. I tend to focus on Nick as I think he has a real depth which the writers on the show often dont explore. Anyway, for now, thanks again for support with reviews and advice and I'm off to plan some more stories!


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